Days Unlived, Words Unsaid
by EmpatheticVoice
Summary: There are days that are unlived, and words that remain unsaid. Eurus forces Sherlock to confront what we already knew about his relationship with Molly Hooper. A perspective on that pivotal scene set during "The Final Problem." Warning! Contains major spoilers! Not beta read.


**_A/N: Warning! Contains major spoilers for "The Final Problem." Please forgive any punctuation and grammatical mistakes as this is not beta read._**

 ** _Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me._**

* * *

 _So many days unlived. So many words unsaid._

 _Who loves you Sherlock?_

 _Make her say it._

* * *

" _No…It's too cruel."_ John thought to himself.

They had just considered the possibility of giving a little girl false hope in surviving her hellish plane ride in exchange to sparing the lives of many in an unknown city.

Now they were going to extract the words of a universally understood, but unsaid fact. Anyone who knew or looked at Molly Hooper knew that she was in love with Sherlock Holmes. They also knew that Sherlock often used her to suit his needs. She let him, because she loved him. Now they were going manipulate the lonely woman who had no one else in the world, to say the unsaid words that she would never say aloud. The most intimate, heartfelt words a person can say to another.

Unrequited love is such a sad and tragic thing to see and experience. Molly had endured a lot of hurt and pain because of the consulting detective, and still gave herself fully over to him, over and over, selflessly. She never expected or demanded of him to say or act in such a way to acknowledge her feelings. She simply accepted what little he gave her and suffered in quiet dignity. Eurus was forcing Sherlock to confront and acknowledge his many crimes against Molly Hooper, whose only egregious sin was loving him.

To push Molly Hooper that far…

"No…" John said aloud shaking his head.

Even John's heart knew this was almost too cruel to bear.

"Yes." Sherlock responded, immediately.

He would do this to save Molly's life.

* * *

Molly stood in her kitchen, hunched over, clutching her head protectively.

One ring…

Two rings…

Three rings…

Four.

Molly made tea listlessly, ignoring her phone.

* * *

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "Why isn't she answering her phone?"

"You never answer your phone." John responded.

"Yes, but it's me calling." Sherlock shook his head a bit incredulously, as if he was willing Molly into answering her phone.

Molly never ignored him before. She always answered and was there for him when he needed her. As the clock ticked down, the cracks of anxiety began to show on Sherlock's body language as Molly let the call go to voicemail. Sherlock inhaled deeply as Eurus dialed the number a second time. Time was running out.

"C'mon Molly pick up…Just bloody pick up." John chanted lowly.

Sherlock bowed his head and rocked back and forth. He placed his fingers into his mind palace pose over his face. His mind was racing for methods and possible scenarios for Molly to survive this. Any other person who saw him might make the mistake in saying he was praying.

One ring.

Two rings.

Three.

"Hello Sherlock. Is this urgent? I'm not having a good day." Molly said in a tired voice.

She answered.

Sherlock eyes widened, and he now had to spring into action.

"Molly I just want you to do something very easy for me, and not ask why." He said quickly.

" _She is loyal. She will do this for me."_ Sherlock thought to himself.

She gave him a disgusted sigh, "Oh God. Is this one of your stupid games?"

"No. It's not a game."

Molly Hooper's life is never a game for him.

He continued woodenly, "I…need you help me."

Before when he asked for her help, he did it condescendingly from a place of strength. Now Molly had the control. If he upset her too much, she would hang up and her life would be forfeit. There would be no time for another call.

"Look, I am not at the lab."

"It is not about that." He interrupted her.

"Well, quickly then." She said irritably.

Sherlock pressed his lips together in thought.

She made an annoyed and impatient noise, and said his name, wanting him to spit out what he wanted to say.

"What is it? What do you want?" She said quickly, hoping that the man would pick up and speak at that speed.

She wanted this conversation to be over.

"Molly please, without asking why, please say these words."

"What words?"

"I love you."

She pulls the phone away from her ear, taken aback.

She sniffles, "Leave me alone."

She knows what people say, and the pitying looks people give her. To hear him mocking her is more than she can bear. This could be the thing that breaks her from Sherlock Holmes once and for all.

"Molly! No! Please! No! Don't hang up! Do not hang up!" He raises his voice desperately.

John and Mycroft can only watch with their hands covering their mouths. Things are spiraling out of control.

Eurus threatens him to calm down, or she will kill her right then and there. Sherlock forcibly collects himself. It is almost as if she is guiding him through this conversation.

"Why are you doing this to me? Why are you making fun of me?" Molly pleads.

In the past when Sherlock hurts her, she can brush it off as unintentional. This is different. This is him pointedly ripping her heart out of her chest for him to scrutinize. He never showed her respect or treated her as an equal. Why would she expect him to handle gently her tender heart? She feels he is making fun of her. He was always so condescending to her, as though she is beneath him. She knows she is beneath him. Whether it is in intellect or beauty, she could never bring herself up to a level that he would notice. What was worst of all is that she thinks he knows it.

"Please, I swear you just have to listen to me." Sherlock urges agitatedly.

Eurus admonishes him for not speaking softer. Molly deserves better than that.

"Molly. This is for a case." He annunciates and modulates his tone. Sherlock used the same trick on Janine. "It's sort of an experiment." He says hoping to appeal to her scientific side.

"I am not an experiment Sherlock." The pathologist grinds out.

Sensing he is losing ground, Sherlock backtracks. "No. I know you're not an experiment, you're my friend. We are friends, but please just say those words for me. "

"Please don't do this. Just…just don't do it." She pleads quietly.

She doesn't want to go down this road. It is one of the few times that she ever asks something of him. But it is something that Sherlock would not be able to give. The pain she is going through now may break her, but would be worth it, if it means saving her life. It is as if the dragon slayer frees the princess from her draconian captor by mortally wounding her.

"It's very important. I can't say why. But I promise you it is."

" _You are very important to me. Have faith in me, Molly. Please."_ He thinks.

Molly shakes her head furiously. "I can't say that. I can't…I can't say that to you."

"Of course you can. Why can't you?"

Sherlock doesn't understand why she can't. They are only just words.

"You know why."

She is calling him out on his willful ignorance. After all, he knows how to exactly gracefully dance his way around her.

"No. I don't know why." He denies it.

Molly lets out a long exhalation. "Of course you do."

Time is running out. He doesn't have the time to spare for this discussion.

"Please, just say it." He says evenly.

"I can't. Not to you." Molly says wearily.

"Why?" Sherlock's mind is moving so fast, his thoughts have become a hazy, dull roar. He can only manage simple sentences.

"Because…Because it's true. It's true, Sherlock. It's always been true." Molly breaks down, finally.

It's very different, thinking something in your head versus saying it aloud. Saying it aloud means that someone can hear you. It becomes an undeniable truth that cannot be negated or refuted by mere thought. It is more tangible, more real.

Sherlock does not know how to handle this admission. So he reverts back to logic to bring her back to his original intent.

"Well, if it's true. Just say it anyway."

He is doing it again. Saying what he needs to get what he wants.

Molly laughs at the familiarity of this cycle.

"You bastard."

This feeling she can handle. This feeling doesn't feel like he is trying to dig out her heart with an ice cream scoop.

"Say it anyway." He repeats.

"You say it. Go on. You say it first." She isn't going to jump into those waters alone without him.

Sherlock pulls his brows together in disbelief. "What?"

He doesn't understand why she is doing this, or the impact of him saying the words will bring.

"Say it. Say it like you mean it." She says breathily.

Molly wants to pretend for a moment, that he loves her. That he is able to love her, and reciprocate her feelings for him. They are the words she has been hungry for, for years. If he wants her to do this, he has to feed her first.

Thirty seconds remain on the clock. The quickest path for Sherlock is the straight path.

Mycroft softly gasps. This is not something that will be easy for Sherlock, let alone say convincingly. If he is unable to do this, they will lose Molly.

Sherlock seems to struggle. "I…" He pauses. "I love you." The words spill out in a rush.

Oddly enough, Sherlock Holmes did not explode from his exposure to the evils of sentiment. His brain catches up to him, as clarity begins to finally form within him. The realization hits him. He does. He truly does love her.

He says the words again, lowly and without artifice. "I love you."

"Molly?"

There is no answer.

"Molly, please."

In light of this revelation, he needs her to say the words, now more than ever, so she can live. So he can see her again when this is over, and share with her this new found feeling and understanding.

"I love you." The soft, tender words are spoken into the phone with two seconds to spare.

All three men seem let out the breath they have been holding. Sherlock exhales and bends over, covering his face with his hands. He is overwhelmed for a moment, then straightens up. He seems that he is back to being himself.

Mycroft tries to comfort his brother with the most difficult thing he had to do, but Sherlock interrupts him.

"Eurus. I won. I won." He feels a bit of an adrenaline high. He cajoles her to put on the girl on the plane. He saved Molly Hooper.

"Saved her? From what?" Eurus chuckles. "Oh, do be sensible. There were no explosives in her little house. Why would I be so clumsy? You didn't win. You lost."

She started berating him, "Look what did to her. Look what did to yourself. All those complicated little emotions, I lost count."

Sherlock remained very still.

"Emotional context, Sherlock. It destroys you every time." She chided him.

It is along the similar vein as the phrase Mycroft keeps telling him.

 _Sentiment is a chemical defect of the losing side, Sherlock._

 _Caring is not an advantage, Sherlock._

Sherlock placed the gun he had been holding onto on the table. Eurus opens the door to the next room, and tells Sherlock he needs to be at peak efficiency for the next task. John and Mycroft make their way towards the newly opened doorway, but notice Sherlock is not following. He takes the coffin lid and reverently places it over the coffin meant for Molly Hooper.

"Sherlock." John tries to gain his friend's attention.

The consulting detective is too far gone. "No…NO!"

Despite going deep into the emotional depths within himself, and put through the wringer, he still lost. He put himself and Molly through unnecessary hardship because he wasn't intelligent enough. He could not protect her, just as he could not protect Redbeard. The dam within himself broke, and Sherlock's rage and pain flooded out. He repeated the word "No! No!" several times, as he smashed the wooden coffin to bits. He let out a feral scream afterward and slid down against the wall, sitting on the floor, his energy spent.

John picks up Sherlock's wayward gun. "Look, I know this is difficult, and I know your being tortured, but you have got to keep it together." It is John Watson, the soldier, talking.

"This isn't torture, this is vivisection. We are experiencing science from the perspective of lab rats." Sherlock argues back.

Eurus is performing a living dissection on him. She is able to bring things to surface and draw out reactions from him that even he was unaware of. Even he, is unable to fully process his feelings and emotions associated with Molly Hooper. Those must remain unexamined, unlived, and unsaid for another day, until this nightmare with Eurus is over.

Sherlock looks up at his friend who is standing in front of him.

"Soldiers?" He asks.

"Soldiers." John affirms, and helps him up.

Molly will have to wait a bit longer.


End file.
